


Wired

by LadyOfHell



Series: Original Statements [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Attempt at horror, Body Horror, Computers, Gen, Horror, Leitner Books (The Magnus Archives), Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Season/Series 03, Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), typical spiral weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29535507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfHell/pseuds/LadyOfHell
Summary: Statement of Clara Wright, regarding a strange computer manual and the death of her younger brother Daniel.
Series: Original Statements [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166756
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Wired

**Author's Note:**

> I did it again, guys. Something about writing these statements is addicting... I completely abandoned my half-finished novel for this.  
> It's a Spiral statement this time :D I adore the Spiral, it's my favorite entity by far. I love Michael, I love Helen and "Fatigue" is maybe my favorite episode of the whole podcast.  
> It's weird. Please expect nonsensical comparisons and a very strange narrative. 
> 
> Content Warning for Body Horror!

"Statement of Clara Wright", the Archivist states. "regarding a strange computer manual and the subsequent death of her younger brother Daniel. Original statement given 23rd July 2012. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. 

Statement begins. 

Danny had been addicted. I had known about this, of course, but I'd never done anything about it. I had just looked away. That was wrong, I know, but in the end I had looked at him and it still didn't save him so maybe there was nothing I could have done. Who knows? Maybe he knows. I should ask him when I get home.  
My brother lived with me. Or maybe I lived with him, I can't remember, but we lived in the same apartment and it had been like that for quiet a while. Danny had always been with me. We had left our parents early and from this day, he had been by my side and never left.  
His addiction started about a year ago, I think. He bought some fancy gaming computer for a lot of money and I didn't know where he even got that money from, but I hadn't asked. I was at work the whole day, working ten hour shifts, maybe he was working too. How would I know? I never asked. He was an adult. This wasn't my responsibility.  
He started spending more and more time in front of the screen. It wasn't one certain game he played, it always changed. I heard him play some multiplayer games, screaming at people in the voice chat. And I heard him scream at the screen, when things didn't go as he wanted them to. I wasn't worried. Like I said, I was at work most of the time, maybe he was to. Maybe he just liked to spend his evenings in front of the computer. Maybe everything was alright.  
I knew it wasn't alright.  
I didn't care. My job was exhausting and I was working ten hours a day. I was tired. How could I possibly care?  
Danny was still going to college. What courses did he take? I don't remember. Maybe he studied IT. Maybe he spent that much time with his computer because he was studying.  
I knew he wasn't studying.  
I was working in the storage of a large company, whose name I can't remember. I carried heavy boxes around all day. It was terrible and it slowly destroyed my body, but the salary was enough to pay the rent, so I couldn't quit. It made my body hurt. It still does. Even though I can't remember when I last went to work.  
Danny still had good grades in college. We went to an ice cream shop to celebrate. It had been a hot summer day, so hot that the sun tried to burn my skin off. The ice cream was melting and tripping on our cloths and we were laughing and everything was fine.  
I knew it wasn't fine.  
He still had this addiction, but it was so easy to forget in the bright daylight. I was glad that he didn't take drugs. That he didn't do anything illegal. That he didn't hurt anyone.  
My job was exhausting.  
How could I possibly care?  
We had dinner together every evening. A tradition, I guess. We sat together and had the same conversation over and over again.  
Work was fine.  
My back was killing me. The boss treated us like garbage. Safety precautions were non-existant anymore, a coworker broke his leg last week.  
Work was not fine.  
College was fine.  
His grades got worse. He couldn't focus on the courses anymore. He had absolutely no connection to his peers.  
College was not fine.  
One day, he told me he wanted to build his own computer. Maybe he knew how to do that. Maybe he really studied IT. Maybe that's where the idea came from.  
I knew he didn't study IT.  
Another coworker got hurt at work. I was looking for a new job and had to write applications. How could I possibly care?  
He didn't stop talking about his custom-built computer and how great it would be once it was done. How much better than a regular one it would be. How perfect for all his preferences. He ordered a lot of things until the packages piled in the hallway and I still didn't know where he got the money from.  
All my applications were declined. One of my coworkers quit. I had to work eleven hour shifts now. How could I possibly care?  
I asked Danny at dinner why he knew how to build a computer. He smiled and handed me a small book. "Building a Personal Computer" the cover said and it showed lines of coding that shifted before my eyes. I flipped through the pages, but the letters whirled and twisted and I felt dizzy when I handed it back to Danny.  
I didn't hear him anymore. Didn't hear him scream at people in multiplayer games. Didn't hear him scream at his screen. More and more packages arrived at our doorstep. The names of the senders were senseless rows of letters and numbers.  
The rent became more expensive. My boss denied my request for a raise. I had to work twelve hour shifts now. How could I possibly care?  
Danny and I didn't go out for ice cream anymore. We also didn't go out for anything else. There had been a time when we went to grab coffee or even dinner at a nearby italian restaurant. When we spent at least one day of the week together, walking through town and meeting with our friends and having fun. When there had been a life outside of this dusty apartment and the sun had been more than a distant memory. When my body had been more than fragile skin and crumbling bones and Danny had been made of flesh and blood and no wires had chained him.  
We still had dinner every evening.  
Work was still fine.  
I started to sleep with my boss. It got me the raise I needed to pay the rent. I hated myself and I hated him.  
Work was not fine.  
College was still fine.  
I got a call from the university. Danny had missed all of his courses. His grades were terrible. He wouldn't pass the semester.  
College was not fine.  
I came home one day and saw his book, lying on the kitchen table. The white pages shimmered in impossible colours. I skipped through it again, the letters were still shifting and twisting and turning and the colours screamed inside my head. I cut my fingertips on the edges of the metallic paper and bleeded electricity.  
The book fell out of my hands and hit the floor. Danny was reading this book a lot. Maybe I should be worried.  
I was not worried.  
My coworkers wondered why my boss seemed to favour me. I had no explaination except the truth. They hated me because of it.  
How could I possibly care?  
Danny only ever left his room for dinner.  
Work was still fine.  
I didn't go there anymore. I couldn't stand the disgusted looks of my coworkers. I couldn't stand how my boss touched me.  
Work was not fine.  
College was still fine.  
He didn't go there anymore. The semester was lost anyway. He didn't care about grades or whatever he studied.  
College was not fine.  
He was pale when he sat at the dinner table. Blood was tripping from his hands and his arms and his face.  
I asked if he was still building his computer.  
He said he was.  
I smiled and he smiled too and it was entirely impossible for his mouth to spread that wide but it did and I didn't care.  
I was about to lose my job.  
How could I possibly care?  
There was still money on my bank account. My contract wasn't terminated. Maybe they hadn't noticed that I didn't come to work anymore. Maybe my job had been that insignificant.  
I knew my job had not been that insignificant.  
But the air inside the apartment was screaming with static and strange lights flickered through the hallway. I cut my skin open on coloured wires, acid flowed from jagged wounds and shattered my thoughts like broken glass, so how could I possibly think about work anymore? How, just how could I possibly care?  
Danny didn't leave his room anymore. We didn't have dinner together.  
Work was not fine.  
College was not fine.  
He came to me, his skin was made of shattered glass and static was bleeding from the tears in his shifting body and his colours were screaming at me like sandpaper on sensitive skin. He asked if I could bring dinner to his room tonight and when I agreed, he showed me a smile made of wires and his electric laughter made my head spin.  
There was no more money on my bank account. I did not pay rent anymore. The landlord had come by, but there was no door, only a computer screen and it showed nothing but white noise, so I couldn't let him in until he was devoured by the wires.  
There was no need to pay rent anymore.  
I brought Danny his dinner. He had requested toast, so I had put the toaster on a plate and carried it to his room.  
The door was shivering with rainbow-coloured static that tried to burn my skin off when I touched it. I told it that Danny needed his dinner, so it let me through.  
The room was covered in wires and cables. There was no speck of colour except everything was burning in colours that did not exist. Computer screens lit up the shifting darkness, but all they showed was breathing hearts and beating lungs and thinking tongues and talking brains. Eyes were made of battery acid and they sat between metallic veins and followed every move of the crackling air.  
I fell to my knees and the floor was wet from blood and glass and software coding. My eyes fell upon the keyboard, but the letters were not letters and their twisting lines hurt my ears. Electricity was burning through my mind and cut my thoughts in identical pixels.  
Danny was floating above the ground, his skin was static and his bones were thin metal wires and his arms were cables that covered every inch of the room. He held his brain in his hands and the fingers were sparkling cables too and they dug deep into the pale, white flesh and tore his sanity apart like velcro. His chest was spread open and his ribs were circuit boards that spread out in every impossible direction and his heartbeat was binary code.  
His eyes were no more, but his gaze tasted like a lightning strike. He smiled like a headache and he thanked me and called me by my name, but I couldn't understand the code he was speaking and his voice was blinking lights and blue screen.  
Madness kept the remains of my mind together and it hurt, so I screamed and he laughed and laughed like fractured glass. It broke my bones and melted my blood and I realized that he didn't want me here anymore, so I dropped the plate and left him alone.  
He would call me, if he needed me again.  
If he needed another component for his personal computer.  
Please excuse me, but I have to go home now.  
Danny is waiting for his dinner.

Statement ends.

Well, that was certainly weird, but that's not exactly unusual for the Spiral. I did some research regarding Miss Wright and her brother. Apparently, their mother left when they were still young and the father became a severe alcoholic after that. Miss Wright took her brother and went away as soon as she was of age, but it seems like she was in over her head.  
Daniel Wright was found dead in front of his computer in his room in August 2012, after some neighbors complained about the smell. The cause of death was starvation and there was no evidence for murder, so the death was considered a rather strange suicide.  
Clara Wright was put in a mental hospital after suffering a severe psychosis. She's still there today, sadly with no sign of improvment of her mental state.  
There is no doubt the book "Building a Personal Computer" is a Leitner, strongly aligned with the Spiral. The Flesh may have played a part too, considering the disfigurement of Mr. Wrights body, but I'm not too sure about that. According to police reports, his body was emaciated, but otherwise unharmed. In the end, it seems to be just an elaborate illusion of the Spiral.  
The Leitner was still as a piece of evidence at the police, but Basira managed to retrieve it and bring it to the Institute. It is safe in the artifact storage now, so it won't hurt anyone ever again.  
End recording."

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by: the beginning of the Angel Sanctuary manga. I highly recommend it, it's one of my all time favorites. 
> 
> I hope y'all liked this statement :)


End file.
